When I was young I thought Bridget Jones was a joke. Ha-ha, what a load of codswallop, I laughed, as I watched her chain-smoke her way into Colin Firth’s britches. But then I reached her age and found, to my horror, it’s all true. Every scene is now being re-enacted by me, from the hopeless crush on the wrong man, through the never-ending quest for self-improvement, to all those bloody dinner parties.
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